Write Every Day

I have been writing almost every day for almost three years. That’s 1,095 days of getting up every day, sitting on my couch or at my computer, and writing. That is astounding.

How did this happen?

I read the words: “Write every day.”

Maybe it was This Year You Write Your Novel by Walter Mosley. Maybe not. It might have been Stephan King’s On Writing. In any case, I read the words when I was ready to hear them. (I’m sure others had given me this advice before. Didn’t matter, I wasn’t ready.)

And that’s what I did. Everything before that was practice. I’d been working on a book for at least two years by then. It was practice to find time to write. It was practice at believing I could write. It was practice to say to others (a few trusted friends) I’m writing. It was practice for writing every day.

Now I can’t live without writing every day. I haven’t written this week. I’m grouchy and off-kilter, like the feeling I get after eating half a bag of Reese’s peanut butter cups: that was not a good idea. I would feel so much better if I hadn’t done that.

Don’t tell anyone: I would write even if I knew I would never get published. I would write even if no one ever read it. I have to.
WIP update: Cut down to 58,000 words. Already up to 63,836, 3,000 words over what I had before I made cuts.

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